Marcel's New Assistant

Chapter Seven: Clubbin'

-Alicia's P.O.V.-

After I had got home, I pulled out my phone and called a couple of my friends. We were going out tonight and I needed to confirm that I was still going.

I quickly rushed upstairs and shed my clothes. I hopped into the shower and came out, fresh and clean.

I slipped into my short, black and sequined dress. I went to my mirror and put on dark make up. I let my hair out, it's naturally voluminous, so I only needed to add hair spray to keep it under control. I put on black, five-inch heels and put all the necessary items in my clutch.

I was spraying my perfume, when I heard a knock at my door. I checked the time and furrowed my eyebrows. The girls weren't supposed to be here for thirty minutes.

I walked downstairs and looked through the peephole to see Mr. Styles. I opened the door and smiled. "Hello, Mr. Styles. What brings you here?"

-Marcel's P.O.V.-

Sweet Jesus.

I was not expecting this. She looked ravishing. The dress she had on, amplified her breasts and her legs looked like they'd never end. I swallowed hard.

"I-I...uh...I came t-to see if you were feeling a-alright..."

She smiled and opened the door wider. "Come in. I'm feeling fine. I'm going out with my friends in about twenty minutes, actually." She said.

I nodded my head, still speechless. "Em...I'm s-sorry if I intruded."

"No! You aren't intruding. You actually saved me from twenty minutes of waiting." She chuckled lightly. "Would you like some coffee?" She sauntered into the kitchen, reaching to get a mug. Her dress hitched up a bit, exposing more of her skin.

My collars chafing.

I quickly stood and went over to her, easily grabbing the mug. She turned around, her body close to mine and she gasped softly. "T-thank you..." Alicia said, gently taking the cup from my hand.

I cleared my throat and took a step back. "Um...n-no problem."

She bit her lip and said, "Um, how do you like your coffee?"

"Black." I said simply. I sat down on one of the chairs in her kitchen and watched her make our coffee. She was humming softly and I couldn't help but notice how calming it was.

"Soy incondicional. Un amor tan real..." She sang quietly.

'Beautiful...' I thought, listening to her.

"I think so too..." Dammit, did I say that outloud? "It's a Spanish song...by Prince Royce. It's one of my favorite songs."

"I-it's nice...w-what does it mean?"

She looked up at me and then out somewhere else. "I'm unconditional. A love so real. He's saying, he doesn't care what others say...he's in love..." She said softly.

I looked at her while she was in her dream-like state. Her expression was soft. Her eyes were warm and she had a small smile on her face. "That's romantic..." I said gently.

She seemed to snap back to reality and shook her head. "It's just empty words." She smiled sadly and turned back to the coffee. "Here you go..." She handed me my mug and I took a sip.

My eyes widened. "That's the most delicious coffee I've ever tasted!"

She giggled. "It's Cuban coffee and I grew up making it in what we call a greca." Britney said in Spanish. "It literally squeezes every bit of good coffee so none of it goes to waste."